Absolution
by Aniahs Rewyas
Summary: Loosely Based in MW3, mostly AU. After Makarov's reappearance, the SAS is back to work with new members of the well abhorred UNSF. However, both parties are finding out how hard habits actually die when lives are at stake. UPDATE (APRIL 14, 2013) I will be returning back to this story! I have not abandoned it or my fellow readers!
1. Drunken and Driven

Aniahs Rewyas: Making my move from poetry to fiction. We'll see how long this lasts…

Side Note: This story is loosely based around the events of MW3, however the majority of the story does take place in an AU.

Disclaimer: I own nothing more than the plot and the OC's (original characters). All else belong to the prospective owners.

* * *

_Absolution_

_Chapter I: Drunken and Driven_

The moonlit hallway filled the darkness of a desolate apartment as the scuffling of stumbling footsteps came to a temporary cease. Though the small European flat was soundless, the repetitive beats of club life still resonated in Soap's head. Images of swaying skirts, spilt drinks and tight clothing flashed in his mind. Scuffling out of his shoes, Soap sighed as he entered his bedroom. A poorly furnished room with a covered box serving as a lamp post and a worn out air mattress welcomed him in his slightly drunken state. Plopping onto the bed, his head sunk into his pillow; his eyes opening slowly. Azure colored eyes so bright against their red tinted retina. The smell of alcohol stained on his shirt filled his nostrils as he was again reminded of his evening's routine events; a usual trip to a night club with in search of the same type of woman who shared the same type of interest.

It had been just over a year since Makarov's disappearance. Soap, Price, Yuri and all other members of the SAS had been cleared of all their offenses and were given one year of leave to decide what to do with the normalcy of civilian life with very special thanks from a recently saved President Vorshevsky and his daughter.

Yuri had returned to Russia to get back into touch with family. Kamarov and Nikolai had followed suite a few days after, however Kamorov would soon find he was in for a huge surprise by the latter of the Russians who had a habit of being quite promiscuous with the ladies.

And as for Price. Well, Price had his typical paranoia to deal with. Soap could still hear his mentor's voice in his head.

'_Makarov is still breathing which means he's still a bleeding thorn in my side.' _

That meant Price was likely staying at an undisclosed location, for an indecisive amount of time. But, at least he wrote letters to Soap and the others.

'_Always so old fashioned, eh Price.' _

Soap scoffed to himself before feeling his stomach suddenly churn. The threat of throwing up was steadily rising to his throat. Making a rush to the bathroom, Soap bit his tongue in hopes of stalling the burning alcohol from squirting from his teeth.

He made it to the toilet. Just, barely. The sound of flushing water had become a comfort to him as he pressed his weight onto the lou, and propped himself onto the sink. The cold water couldn't come out soon enough for the Scotsman. His hands rushed under the water to rinse out his mouth and then cool his face. After several moments of repeating this action, he turned off the faucet and inhaled deeply. Looking at himself in the mirror, he felt repulsion set in. This routine needed to stop. He needed to get back to work. He needed another mission.

Wandering out of the bathroom and into the cool darkness that was his room, Soap again plopped his weight on the bed and turned to his side. The sun was rising now, which meant that his bedtime was near.

"Good sleep will do me swell." He muttered before sliding his hand beneath his pillow.

The pounding on a door, awoke him with a start. As it had only seemed like a few hours had passed since he last slept. After lying there for a moment, Soap was welcomed by a bright, sun shined filled room with birds chirping and happiness ensuing.

Happiness was hard to take when a certain Scotsman was hung over.

The pounding on the door, became more persistent. Less patient.

"Bollocks! Who could be here at this hour?" Soap stumbled out of bed in a disarray of frustration and disorientation.

Staggering down the stairs while tripping over his feet, he very loudly came to a halt just in time for his hand to reach the door knob. Swinging it open wildly, the Scotsman's fully prepared icy glare was quickly melted by the even harder stare of Captain Price.

"What the bloody Hell is your problem, son?"

"Oh, hi Price." How quickly Soap's tone changed.

"What's with all that scruffle on your face?"

"Oh, uh, why don't you come in?" Soap offered his hand inside.

The older English gentleman obliged soundlessly with a befuddled look on his face.

Limited furniture decorated the flat with a large television and large speakers on one end of the room and a small futon on the other. There wasn't even a coffee table for tea.

"I don't use it for much." Feeling slightly abashed, Soap offered his mentor something to drink.

"No, thanks though, lad."

An awkward pause ensued between the two soldiers.

"What brings you to the neighborhood?"

Soap motioned for Price to sit with him on the futon as he noticed Price's facial expression fade from confused to serious.

"We've got a trace on Makorov's location and where we believe he'll strike next."

"Where?" The Scotsman sharpened his eyes.

"He's returned to his homeland and has started a newer, deadly force than last time. Rumor has it that he's been training children for the last several years. Children as young as ten are being sent to this _training facility_ in the middle of nowhere Russia. "

"How did we miss that?"

"None of them have been surviving until now. We have a connection with three members who have worked in a separate organization with him and have been rumored to have been in existence since Chernobyl."

"And this organization is…supplying the children."

"In a simple sense, yes. However," Price paused. "I'm not too convinced that these members are as trustworthy as they seem."

"What do you mean?"

"Two of the members we're to meet with used to work directly for Makorov and still have a myriad of ties to the bastard himself."

"What is the name of this organization?"

"UNSF. The United Nations Secretive Forces."

"Why do I know that name?" Soap cocked his head to the side.

"Because every government and military in the world has been hunting for their heads for the past twenty five years. Many believe that this organization is personally responsible for Chernobyl and many other terroristic happenings."

"When do we leave?" Soap upon seeing Price stand, matched his level.

"In five minutes."

"I'll be ready."


	2. Slipping in the Snow

_Aniahs Rewyas: Yay! Chapter two! _

_A special thank you to **WolfKidBirdGir**l for her review! Please enjoy!_

_Disclaimer: I own nothing more than the plot and the OC's (original characters). All else belong to the prospective owners._

* * *

_Absolution_

_Chapter II: Slipping in the Snow_

The whirl of a helicopter sounded as Nikolai pressed a few buttons on his control panel before removing his hands from the thrust controller. Stretching his palms and cracking his neck he turned his head at the sound of Price's voice.

"Thanks for coming back on such short notice, Nikolai."

The Russian smirked. "It was no problem."

"Aye, it's good to see you all again." Soap smiled at Price and Yuri as they replied with similar responses.

The door had been open as they all watched the sun set stealing away precious light from the Baltic Sea. The light was beautifully blinding and there was a moment of peace between the battle brothers.

Yuri turned his head to Price. "When are we to meet with these members of the UNSF?"

"Tonight. Just as soon as we land." Price folded his arms and crossed his leg.

"And what do we know about them?"

"We know that two of them were once Loyalists to Makarov. And that the third member can only be placed at varying locations. But we don't have any intel on him actively participating in any actual assignments. We also have only two of their names, Bullseye and Snow."

"Snow? What kind of name is Snow?" There was irony in Soap's voice earning him a smirk from Price.

The sudden descending in the helicopter prompted them all to prepare to leave.

"And the third member?"

"All we have is the name Vaher."

Flying over a ridge of snow covered mountains, the group braced themselves for a brisk landing. Exiting one by one, Soap was surprised upon seeing Nikolai follow them.

"Not to worry. There is a storm moving in that will provide camouflage enough to cover it." The friendly Russian smiled.

The SAS members had just fallen into camouflage whenever the sound of another helicopter flew above them.

"That was rather low."

"Aye," Soap nodded.

"Quiet." Price whispered upon noticing some traffic ahead of them. There were a few soldiers dressed in Russian uniform.

"It seems Makarov's already been quite busy here lately. Let's move." Price aimed his weapon and executed a head shot on each of the guards. The SAS members quickened their pace and were met with another set of heavily armed patrolmen just a few kilometers away. A gust of wind blew the snow into their sight as they slowed themselves to a steady pace. Price held up a signal to halt.

"Makarov's got things tight." Soap looked ahead of the group to see even more guards at an even shorter distance away.

"He's nervous." Price sharpened his eyes as another bout of wind blinded him.

The sudden blitz of a bullet soaring past their heads caused them to flinch. There was a brief moment of silence as they all turned to look behind them. Just as they relaxed, and Price took another step forward, he froze. The squads of patrolmen lie dead. Tension nearly suffocated the air from their lungs as they listened for anything that would give an indication as to where the bullets came from.

The crunching of ice sounded below boots as a hooded figure wandered through the snow. Soap, Yuri and Nikolai looked up to see where the footsteps were coming from. There was no one in sight. However, the footsteps were growing louder and…closer. Price had turned his head with his hand in the air, mid sign. His ears perked up at the sound of the boots arriving closer and closer; anticipating enough time to move even just a meter…Until a drop of snow fell on his shoulder.

Lifting his head slowly, he saw an icy stare meet his own. Soap, Yuri and Nikolai watched the woman whose body was covered from her nose down.

"Come with me." A thick Russian accent was evident as she spoke into their headphones.

Price's eyebrow twitched._ 'They hacked our system.' _

"There isn't time to doddle about."

Rising slowly, Price towered over the woman by a good few inches.

"This way. There's only a matter of time before they realize what has happened here." Turning away swiftly, a lock of blonde hair slipped out of the snow colored hood.

"Who are you?" He demanded.

"Now is not the time. They're coming." A few more strands of hair slipped out of the hood as she camouflaged into the winter scenery. Another gust of wind blinded them as Price looked behind him at the puzzled expressions of his comrades. Looking at the mountain in back of them, he swallowed at the sound of a heavy car coming their way.

"We're running out of time, Price." Soap matched his eye level. The others had their focus on the incoming vehicle and in the not too far distance, barking.

"Let's go." Price rushed after the fading footsteps as the winds picked up; shadowing their tracks.

The SAS members were struggling with the vanishing tracks. They slowed their pace as Price looked around, a mix of frustration and perhaps even…fear in his eyes. Motioning for them to lower themselves to the ground, they lay in blended in to the snow. The whirl of the wind quieted Makarov's guards as Yuri looked behind him. Suddenly a roar of thunder echoed throughout the mountains. The soldiers felt the ground shake violently beneath them. Lifting himself to his knees, Yuri looked over the bushels of twig to see a greater threat than Makarov's men. The thundering conglomeration of snow and ice rumbled against gravity as the desperate turnover of an engine fell silent. The reality of an avalanche weighed heavily on their minds as Price yelled for them to run.

Dashing through the nine inches of sinking ice was no easy task as Price realized he had lost the tracks of the woman from before. Images of Makarov taunting him from the helicopter flashed in his mind. The sound of his laughter pierced his ears so fervently, as Price felt his hand twitch on his M4A1 before bearing his teeth and sprinting violently into the surrounding bushes.

"Price wait!" Soap extended his hand, watching mentor vanish almost instantly. Rushing after him, Yuri and Nikolai stood with befuddled expressions as Yuri went to chase after the two Europeans. He stopped upon feeling his Russian companions hand on his shoulder.

"Chasing after them and getting lost will do us no good." Nikolai spoke in Russian. "The storm is getting worse. We will be just as dead as Makarov's men if we don't find shelter soon."

Nodding, Yuri sighed as another gust of wind blew into their faces.

"Come on." Nikolai urged.

* * *

Crushing snow grew louder as Price rushed into the worsening snow storm. Rage filled his eyes as the images of Makarov escaping in the helicopter grew more and more vivid in his mind. Breathing heavily and baring his teeth, he growled and cursed. Then suddenly, his ears perked up at the sound his name. It had been several minutes since he'd fallen into the consciousness of his mind as a pang of guilt filled his heart. His comrades weren't behind him. He had acted dishonorably and now anything could have happened to them.

"Soap?" He tried his headset. There was no reply. After several tries, Price sighed and looked around him. The blowing snow was so thick that he couldn't even see a foot in front of him. Readjusting his weapons he started wandering off into one direction. The temperature was dropping at an alarming rate. He had only hours, if not minutes to find shelter or he'd freeze to death.

After aimlessly wandering for several minutes he found that breathing was becoming impossible. His oxygen level was depleting as his neck was struggling to support his head. His hands had long gone numb as the frost bite was spreading up his forearms.

Dizziness blurred his vision as hand and eye coordination was beginning to dissipate. His body swayed back and forth as his footsteps slid closer and closer to a ledge. Realizing too late that he was on a cliff, gray eyes looked to the sky as he muttered for God's forgiveness. Blackening spots consumed his vision as his foot slipped off the ledge, his body following.


	3. Calculative Curiosity

_Aniahs Rewyas: Yay! Next chapter! _

_Disclaimer: I own nothing more than the plot and the OC's (original characters). All else belong to the prospective owners._

* * *

_Absolution_

_Chapter III: Calculative Curiosity _

"Price!" Soap was beginning to make himself hoarse with his shouting. The storm was in full force as surviving became less of a reality. Blinded by snow in every direction, he looked down at his feet. Nowhere but down, he supposed. Leaning down, he began digging with his hands. Even with handfuls and several minutes of digging, he found that his plan to build a shelter was slipping from his hands; literally. Leaning onto his heels, felt his hands begin to shake; a desperate attempt to fight frost burn. Reaching for his neck he retrieved his dog tags. Holding them in his gloved fingers, he kissed his St. Christopher's emblem. The image of his mother giving it to him as a boy flashed in his memory.

"Here is St. Christopher. He will always protect you." She smiled before turning away from his sight.

"Mother." He muttered. The memory faded as the reality of someone standing over him sunk in.

Auburn locks blew in the wind as she knelt down to his level.

"Are you alright?" Her accent was thick, however it sounded slightly different from Russian.

Frost was beginning to cloud his eyesight as Soap blinked at the blur in front of him.

'_Is this a hallucination?' _

"Soap?" He felt a cold finger touch his jugular searching for a pulse. Blinking a few more times, his vision focused as vibrant green eyes peered into his clouded azures. Nodding his head became extremely difficult as he struggled with the motion.

"Come with me." She held out her hand, a look of fear in her eyes as she looked behind them. The avalanche had ceased as Makarov's men were closing in quickly. Turning his head, Soap struggled to get to his feet.

"Who are you?"

She didn't answer as she motioned for him to follow her. He walked briskly to catch up to her and was relieved whenever she slowed her pace as they neared another line of bushes. He joined her as she crawled quickly while listening to the crunching snow just feet away. She motioned for him to remain quiet before continuing on their way.

They managed to sneak past the guards without detection as they reached the base of a mountain. Quickly rising to their feet, Soap looked over to the white hooded figure as she pointed to a large cliff over ten feet ahead of them.

"That is where we are to go." She spoke.

Soap nodded as he watched her take out her ice picks. He followed suite and after testing the ice, allowed her to lead the way. The climb went faster than expected as he looked over to see her slide her leg onto the cliff. He was seconds behind her as he saw her scanning the area. She looked over her shoulder before offering him a brief…smile? Pulling himself over the ledge, he looked at her as she pulled out a cellular device with something blinking on it.

"There's an old house just a few feet away. It isn't much. But it's a way out of the storm." She motioned to the curved path around the mountain tip.

He nodded; still weary however, he was beginning to miss the feeling in his feet.

"Let's get going." His voice was becoming gruff.

* * *

Sudden warmth soothed his body, as the sound of crackling tickled his ears. His eye sight focused on the burning fireplace less than three feet away. Price groaned as he cracked his neck from side to side. The sound of shuffling in the next room caught his attention and set him on high alert. Reaching for his M1911, he peered over the couch in search for the source of the sound.

"Easy there, John." The Russian accent caused him to tense up even more as he watched a shadow form in the dimly lit room. "Do you recognize me?"

John's opaque eyes focused on the woman in front of him. He instantly recognized the blonde hair from their previous encounter. And as she came closer, he began to remember those icy, blue eyes. Sitting up, his grip on his gun still tight, he watched her aim to sit down.

"May I?"

Price hesitated but nodded after a moment. Seating herself at his feet, she sat in a perfectly straightened posture while allowing him a moment to think; to remember. Eyeing her over, he smirked at his realization; and released his gun.

"There is only one woman I've ever met with a posture as straight as that… Sveta, Belova. You weren't known as your code name when we first met."

Sveta smiled. "There's been so much that's happened… It's just been a long time, John." Saying his name…did it cause her pain? Despite all the years spent apart he noticed they still shared the same trait. Experience had come with a price. Age had been just the down payment.

"Indeed, a very long time."

"It's good to see you John," She forced a smile before tucking her short locks behind her ear. "I trust that you're here because of Makarov?"

He nodded. "You could always read me like a book. And then, some…" His smile faded as he recalled the events that took place before he blacked out. Pangs of guilt were beginning to sink in. He cared for his men and had always been so protective of them.

"What do you know about the others?"

"My girls are en route but the storm may delay them a bit."

He nodded once more before a whistling sound reached their ears.

"Tea time." Sveta stood before passing a glance at Price.

Sighing, Price slid his feet to the side of the couch as he cracked the vertebrates in his back. Gazing into the fire, he became consumed by his thoughts as he thought of Yuri, Nikolai and Soap.

"Hang in there, lads. I'm coming for you." Standing from the couch, he felt a sharp shooting pain in his stomach. Groaning loudly he placed a hand over his stomach as he keeled over.

"You should probably rest awhile longer." Sveta returned with two glasses of steaming tea in her hands. Setting the cups on the small table to the side of the couch, she gently placed her hand on Price's shoulder. Still hesitant, she read his face to look for any signs of refusal. Looking into his eyes she watched the dark eyes revealed how abashed he was.

"How long do you think the storm will last?"

Sveta looked into the blaze before them before answering. "It may not end until morning."

"I have to go. To try to find them." Just as he grabbed his gun, he felt the soft, caress of a woman's touch on his shoulder.

"May I offer you a suggestion, from a doctor's point of view?"

"Dr. Belova, huh? Things have certainly changed." He offered a rare smile to her before sitting down and leaning against the couch cushion.

"It may be a little off. Seeing as I haven't made you tea in many years." Sveta smiled softly as she handed him a cup of tea.

Slipping it, Price gifted her with something rare; a smile. "It's just as perfect as it was in that wet, decrepit tent in Bangladesh."

"Good to hear."

They traded smiles for a moment as his opaquely colored eyes stared into her vibrant azures. An unwavering spark ignited between the two of them as Price placed a hand on Sveta's knee causing her to shiver. "John…" She moaned.

"Sveta." Her name teased his tongue. Leaning closer to Sveta, "I don't think I ever thanked you for earlier."

She smirked before sliding closer to him. His hand slipping higher up her sleek black cargo pants. Sveta felt her gaze slipping into to Price's face. His whiskers, the same whiskers from over fifteen years ago when she felt her lips touch them for the first time. She felt his hands slip to her lower back. His fingertips tickled her silky black tank top. As she arched her back, closer to him her gaze led past his neck and into his eyes. Her heart raced and her mind blurred as the memories began to flow. Back to simpler times, back to when admitting your love for a soldier of a different military on the opposing side didn't warrant immediate treason.

"John." She whispered. He shushed her with a kiss. Closing her eyes, and pressing closer to him, she deepened it longingly. His hand was at the base of her neck as she laid her hands on his chest. Lifting her shirt, he began to lift it over her head whenever the sound of a creaking door reached their ears.

Yanking the shirt down to her sides, Price swallowed as he watched her breasts bounce beneath her shirt.

Standing awkwardly, the two grabbed their guns at the sight of a young girl with crimson locks covering her face. Brushing her hair to the side, she stepped into the house. Turning behind her, she motioned for someone to follow her. Price's eyes widened as they matched with Soap's blue eyes.

"Vaher," Sveta called to the young red head. "Where are Bullseye and the others?" She inquired in an unrecognized language. Price looked at her, curiously as he quickly realized that she wasn't speaking Russian.

"We couldn't find them. The storm is too potent to search in. That and, Bullseye's radio was knocked out." A meek voice arose from the young girl. She spoke the same language as Price's head followed her words.

Soap grimaced as searing pain coursed through his body.

"He is injured," She continued. "He needs medical attention."

Sveta walked past the young girl who had removed her white hood and continued to remove her coat. Her long locks clinging to her back.

'_She barely looks sixteen.' _ Price thought as he watched her. His eyes flashed from her 5'6 frame over to Soap's 6'1. He was leaning on a nearby table. Even with the dimmed room light, he could pinpoint his comrade's gaze in an instant. He had a hunger. The same hunger that all men had when away from a consistent source of carnal comfort.

Sveta returned to the room, medical kit in hand, her short hair bouncing with each hurried step.

"Come, lie on the couch, here." She offered her hand, to which Soap shook his head before following her to the couch where Price waited.

Sveta leaned down to his level, as Soap groaned. Removing his gloves and boots were first priority; along with checking for hypothermia of course.

"Quickly," She looked up to the curious red haired girl standing at the head of the couch. "Bring me some acetaminophenand some warm compresses." She spoke that same language again. Worry swiftly filled Soap's eyes as she wearily watched her open her medical kit. There was even an instant when his eyes flashed over to Price; searching for some sort of confirmation that this was a good idea. He received it in a simple nod.

The young girl returned moments later with the requested items in her hands.

"This may sting a little." Sveta warned the Scotsman as she neared his foot. She paused before placing the compress on his toes. He flinched slightly before gripping the cushions beneath him.

Footsteps caught their attention as they were becoming louder and louder down the hall. A shadow appeared on the hard wood floor as Price lifted his head. A woman with black spiked hair and intense gray eyes entered the room.

Sveta opened her mouth but quickly shut it upon hearing the woman talk. "There's no getting through that storm tonight for Yuri and Nikolai tonight. We'll have to wait till morning."

Sveta nodded as Vaher looked down. Bullseye wandered through the swinging door into the kitchen.

"We'll put him in one of the guest rooms." Sveta looked over at Vaher who was curiously avoiding her gaze.

Nodding quickly, she stood soundlessly before assisting Soap to his feet. There was little hesitation as he walked slowly but surely with the girl. Sveta, Price and Bullseye watched them until they were out of sight.

"Hmph." Bullseye smirked before taking a bite of her apple.

'_Isn't that sweet?' _She thought to herself before turning around.


	4. Building the Bridge

_Aniahs Rewyas: Continuing right along here. Sorry for the delay. College has been really rough and I've been quite busy._

_Another special thank you to my most dedicated reviewer, WolfKidBirdGirl. _

_Disclaimer: I own nothing more than the plot and the OC's (original characters). All else belong to the prospective owners._

* * *

_Absolution_

_Chapter IV: Building the Bridge _

Hours had passed since the morning sun warmed the Russian mountainside. The air was quiet as Makarov's men had yet to patrol the area. The snow was a blinding reflection against the sun. Handfuls of the smoothed flakes flew through the air and landed just a few inches away. In a matter of minutes several small piles began mounting around a seeping hole. Suddenly an ice pick pierced the snow as it crunched under a gloved hand. Sliding just a few inches, another ice pick perforated just enough for Yuri to poke his head from beneath ground. Pressing his weight onto his hands he tossed the ice picks to the side as he pulled himself to his feet. His eyes adjusted to the sunlight as he squinted at the area surrounding him.

"Oi!" Nikolai called for him beneath the hovel they created to hide from the storm. The Russian reached up his hands as Yuri quickly grasped them and pulled his comrade from the snow covered hole.

"Thanks." Nikolai chirped in Russian.

Yuri nodded and smiled before trying his headset.

"This is Yuri, calling for Bravo Six. Do you copy?"

Nikolai listened through his own ear piece before shaking his head.

Yuri sighed and turned to walk whenever, a voice responded to his message.

"This is Bullseye."

Freezing in their tracks, the two Russians looked at each other before tightening their grips on their MK46 and AK47.

"Bullseye?" Nikolai repeated.

"Da," She responded. "My location is approximately seven meters north of your destination. Walk straight and you both will see me."

"Why should we trust you?" Yuri snarled.

"Because I can be of great use to you. Just as you two can be of great use to me."

Yuri and Nikolai looked hesitantly at each other once more.

"I will take you to your men. Price and Soap." Bullseye urged.

Nikolai nodded before Yuri agreed to meet Bullseye, the short distance away. The walk was more and more daunting with each step. They passed a line of bushels before meeting the woman named Bullseye.

Dressed in black, the two watched as she turned around; hazel eyes matching Yuri's own green ones.

"We need to go. Makarov's men are-"

She closed her mouth before ducking behind the bushels. Yuri and Nikolai swiftly followed her as she looked over their shoulders. A truck pulled up behind as Russian chatter reached their ears. A few of the soldiers had still managed to find some of the bodies from the night before despite the storm. A small herd of dogs were scavenging the area, and inching closer to their location. The most recent scent left from their hovel didn't help the three of them either.

"Follow my lead." Bullseye whispered as Nikolai and Yuri nodded. Propping herself to her knees, she looked through her scope. They weren't too outnumbered. Taking the first shot, she watched as the first guard dropped dead. Nikolai and Yuri quickly took their shots after properly aiming.

"Come on, we don't have much time." She rushed off as they followed her. Rushing through the snow, Yuri noticed that Bullseye's hood had fallen as her short, spiked black hair had crimson tips blew behind her.

As they rounded a corner at the center of the mountain, Yuri and Nikolai noticed her look up at the ledge. The winds increased without warning as the trio glanced behind them. There was panicked chatter before the dogs barks eerily grew silent.

"Just a few more meters to go." She stole a look at Yuri. Distrust reflected in her eyes as she quickly looked away.

'_I sure hope that Sveta knows what she's doing.'_

* * *

The glow of the bedroom light was dim as Soap's stared blankly at the ceiling fan's blurry blades. He'd been sleeping for quite some time and felt immensely more rested than he had in months. Looking to the sides of the bed, he realized he was in a small room. The dark curtains shielded his view from the sun as his eyesight adjusted. Beside the window was a chair with some clothes on it. Thinking of clothes, he thought of the ones he was wearing. Or rather, why the sheets felt so close to his skin? Lifting the sheets, he was surprised to find himself in only his boxers. Pulling the blanket off, he shivered at the room's temperature. Sliding his feet to the side, he stood. Still sore, he stepped slowly as the first rush of blood passed painfully. He leaned over to grab his clothes on the chair and just slipped his pants on whenever he heard the door open.

"Oh, I am sorry." The young red head squeaked before turning away. "I didn't realize you were awake."

Soap didn't respond as he slid his shirt over his head. "It's no problem. It's not like I was naked or anything."

The comment caused Vaher to burn with crimson embarrassment as she quickly realized that he was beside her.

"This way, Captain MacTavish," She averted her gaze before walking awkwardly down the hallway. Soap smirked catching a glimpse at her reaction. "Captain Price and your men are in the living room."

The house was larger than what it appeared to be from the outside.

"So, what's your name, if you don't mind me asking?"

"Nadiya Vaher."

"How lovely."

Nadiya smiled at him before stopping at the top of the stairwell. Her eyes focused on something in the darkness behind them. He turned his head upon sensing someone behind him. His bright azures adjusted to the darkness as they soon met with hazel eyes staring intently.

"Where are you taking him?" Bullseye inquired in a language Soap still failed to understand.

"Downstairs. To Captain Price and the others." Vaher meekly replied.

Bullseye nodded before Vaher continued leading Soap down the stairs. As the house brightened, he could see her auburn hair was pulled back in a loose bun making the appearance of her green eyes vibrant. She led him through the swinging kitchen door. Upon entering the kitchen, his ears perked up at the sound of Price's…laughter coming from the next room. The living room was significantly brighter than the previous rooms as Soap took in the room. Price sat sipping something warm along with a woman with shoulder length blonde hair.

"It's good to see you're not dead son." He greeted warmly.

"I've still got a few tricks up my sleeve, old man." He smiled.

Price smiled as the woman beside him stood.

"Nadiya, ready some more tea for our guests." She spoke a language that neither Nikolai or Yuri understood. Price sat readily watching their expressions.

'_So they really aren't speaking Russian…' _

Nodding quickly, the young redhead entered the kitchen while quickly passing Soap; he noticed a small blush on her face as she breezed by.

Soap watched the scene occurring and upon feeling Price's glance at him, he directed his attention to the nearby wall uncomfortably.

'_Since when does Price hit it off with the ladies?' _He wondered.

Moments passed whenever Nadiya returned with a tray of steaming tea in hand. She started in the far corner with Bullseye, Nikolai and Yuri; followed by Price and Snow before arriving at the end of the couch to hand Soap his most recent cup of tea. Price stood after finishing his drink.

Standing in front of the fireplace, he exhibited a demeanor still new to Soap, Nikolai and Yuri. His shoulders, while still straight were less tense, his gaze was softer, and the bags under his eyes were less visible.

'_What had she done to him?' _Soap wondered curiously.

"Gents, we're faced with a dilemma. We've run out of resources of our own and the supplies are dwindling fast. With the passing of several of the SAS members, we're truly under the gun this time." Snow stood from her seat and soon joined him in front of the fireplace. "Snow, here has contact with the several members of the UNSF who work under Makarov. She will be our guide in and out of his locations." Snow nodded before addressing the rest of them.

Price admired her cool, collected confidence. No longer was she the naïve, soft spoken medical assistant who blushed at the sight of him.

"As you already know, Makarov has returned. His dastardly plans have already been implemented and have been enforced for years on Russia and the surrounding countries. While your actions to stop him in the past have most certainly hindered his progress; he has been given time to learn. Time to process and time to reevaluate his terroristic tactics."

"Undoubtedly we will need to lie low for the next several months. Makarov, most certainly knows someone has been killing off his men at an increasing rate and will tense up at any slightest blemish to his plan. Until then, there isn't much to do aside from catching up on your rest and ensuring that Makarov's death is your top priority."

She motioned to the two young ladies sitting in opposite corners of the room. "Bullseye and Vaher will serve as your guides for the duration of the mission…"

Price stood as Sveta walked over to him. Soap noticed him whispering something in her ear which made her giggle behind her hand.

Still a little unnerved by this prospect, Soap looked over to see Nadiya standing with a plate in her hand, offering to take Nikolai and Yuri's empty cups.

Taking this opportunity to avoid Sveta and Price, he walked over and placed his cup gently on the plate.

"Oops, it seems I missed one." She smiled before looking him in the eye before bashfully glancing away.

"Aye, almost." He smirked.

A moment of awkwardness ensued before Nadiya excused herself to the kitchen to wash the dishes.

Curiously watching her fade from his sight, he smiled to himself as she pressed her back against the door and blushed again before the turning away from his sight.

'_Cute.' _He thought before hearing Nikolai called for him.

Jogging up the stairs with renewed strength, he nodded. "Aye, what's up?"

"You up for a game of cards with Yuri and I?" He asked shuffling from hand to hand.

"Uh," He looked behind him in hopes of Nadiya to rebound the corner. When she didn't, he shrugged and agreed. "What are we playing?"

"Kings in a corner." Came the snarky reply from Yuri.

"You know I bloody well hate that game."

There was a brief moment of chuckling between the trio as they walked up the stairs and to Soap's room. Nikolai had already started bantering with Soap over his losing streak when Yuri felt someone overlooking his shoulder.

Bullseye cautiously closed the door behind in front of her as she watched him. In her gray eyes were looks of distrust that he couldn't naturally blame her for. The door was nearly latched when Nikolai began to call him into Soap's room.

"Alright, alright. I'm here." He said before stealing one last look into the gray eyes peering at the opposite end of the hall. The look was unshakeable as he felt it climb up his spine.

He breathed in relief upon entering the room and closing the door.

In her room, Bullseye sat at her window sill, staring aimlessly moon lit sky. There was a knock on the door and a pause before it opened to reveal Nadiya poking her head around.

"Kadri-"

"You should really learn to wait until someone answers you before you waltz into a room. I could have shot you."

Nadiya tensed at her harsh words, before proceeding into the room cautiously.

"I wanted to talk about those men and how one of them is-"

"Cute?"

"Well, he is quite handsome," She blushed and shrugged as Kadri reached for her dark unmarked bottle and stole a sip of it. "But I wanted to stress how nervous I am about going guiding someone into the field. I've never done that before."

"Sveta probably won't have you do much more than showing him around the arsenals and the scenery. Things to prevent him from…_boredom_." She smirked before swallowing another swig.

Nadiya cocked her head curiously before hearing laughter down the hall.

"Anyhow," Kadri caught Nadiya's attention by tossing a pillow at her face. "You ought to get to bed. It's quite late. And I'm sure MacTavish will be waiting to see you…" Kadri smirked at her crimson haired counterpart.

"I'm certain you're wrong." Nadiya pouted.

"We'll see." Kadri turned and aimed to turn off the lamp beside her, shrouding them in darkness.

Nadiya took a moment to crawl into the bed while watching Kadri slump into her makeshift bed at the window sill.

* * *

A.R.: Again, I am so sorry for not updating in forever. This semester has been atrocious and the further and further I am away from my precious writing, the more and more I crave it.


End file.
